Chapter 11

I thought my next few weeks would be spent mostly on studying the Psittacans and little else. Boy, I'd rarely been more wrong in my life.

Once Magellan reported my inability to use the grav-tubes to Captain Chui, any spare time I had disappeared. First the captain sent me to the ship's doctor, Alena Marsten. Dr. Marsten checked me over thoroughly; in the end, she agreed with Captain Chui's assessment that I needed three nutrient-bars a day, and added a multi-vitamin to the mix. She also recommended time with the ship's physical therapist to help me work on my strength.

So while I did spend many hours working, I also spent an hour each morning, and one each afternoon, working with a retired Marine sergeant who'd taken up physical therapy later in life. Sarge-that was the only name she gave me to call her-stood shorter than me, and was easily twice my width, she was so heavily muscled. She spoke in a staccato bark and kind of scared the shit out of me at first. But despi